iAm Not Dating That Blonde-Headed Demon
by The 0dd 0ne
Summary: God hates him. That's the only viable explanation. Period. /or/ Her face tattooed on his arm will continuously lead to this jank assumption. Stupid Sam. Set during iStakeout / implied Seddie / One-shot / will NOT EVER be REVISITED / following is a waste of time, just REVIEW


He was walking through the Pear store to get some new equipment to improve the cap cam & the glasses cam after managing to get past those two identical girls who always shout at each other "I'm the pretty one!" when it happened. Well, before that happened that one fruit salesmen (the one that sniffs his fruit) came up to him & tried to sell him pears.

"Come on, just buy a pear!" The jankily dressed man persisted, taking a whiff of a pineapple.

"No, I'm not gonna buy a pear from you!" Freddie exclaimed, he did not need this shady man's funky pears.

"But you're at a pear store, my pears are cheap, seven bucks for two pears!" The salesman, neither Freddie nor Carly knew his name & Sam had thrown her shoe at him the one time he tried to sell fruit to her, attempted to bargain.

"I'm not here to buy pears!" He cried out, "and seven bucks for two pears is not cheap!"

"Then why are you at a pear store?" The nub demanded.

"To buy stuff for some cameras!" Freddie wailed, throwing his arms up in exasperation. Grumbling, the fruit salesman left the store.

Thank gosh.

Ugh, the store was not properly air conditioned. Glancing around the store, Freddie saw no one he knew.

That was a good sign, people wouldn't tell his freakish mother about the tattoo Sam made him get because of that stupid bet. Blegh. Sam. How Freddie _hated_ that blonde-headed _demon._ True, she had started being nicer to him . . . to some extent, but she was still, at the very least, a demon spawn. Gah . . .

She was a lot worse when they first met, sixth grade, when Freddie moved from LA. He was talkin' swirlies (she had dragged him into the girl's bathroom, fingers ripping his hair out), Texas wedgies, being shoved in lockers, having his backpack stolen & loaded with gross stuff, much more physical abuse. Then, Carly had told him about how Sam was still upset about how her last boyfriend, Frankie Murkin, rudely dumped her after he fell out of a tree - well, was pushed because he tried to kiss her - at the end of the year & that Freddie looks like him, just without the broken nose. So, Freddie changed the way he styled his hair & Sam beat less chiz out of him every day.

But enough about that.

Freddie, not knowing anyone in the store, slid his jacket off and tucked it into his backpack. He glanced down at his arm, his face crinkling in disgust & contempt. God, he hated that girl.

It was then that, some nerd who worked there game up to him, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Ith that your girlfriend? The's pretty," he said with a lisp as Freddie counted his pimples, fourteen, no, sixteen.

"What? No, no, oh God no, Sam's not my girlfriend, she hates my guts," he quickly defended, the thought of his arm wrapped around Sam, their fingers intertwined flashing through his head.

"Then why do you have a tattoo of her?" The dork asked, his braces catching the store's lighting. He was such a stereotypical nerd. Sam would hate him.

"We bet on something & I lost." Freddie explained. "Again."

"Oh, well, wait a thecond, your Freddie from iCarly, tho that's Tham," God, his lisp was annoying.

"Uh, yeah," Freddie nodded.

"You guyth would be good together, your dynamic is interesting," Freddie glanced down at the doof's name tag - Darren.

"Once again, she hates my guts, & I hate her," he insisted. him & Sam? That was just _wrong! _Yeah, she's pretty, he'll admit that, but she's the devil!

"Tho you thay," Darren countered.

"I am not, & will not date that blonde-headed demon any time soon, & the demon spawn would never date me. Willingly," Freddie shook his head, envisioning Sam kissing him. That terrified him more than her hurting him, he loved Carly. Period.

. . .

Right?

"Hey, I've got the stuff," Freddie called as he entered the Shay residence.

"Who cares, Frednub?" Sam scoffed, clicking through channels. Freddie thought he saw the Dingo channel flash by. Gah. He shuddered, the Dingo channel. Gross.

"Carly would, where is she anyways?" He asked, careful to not look Sam in the eye, he could still see their fingers intertwined & their lips pressed together in the back of his mind.

"She went to the store to buy more Peppy Cola, those jank cops drank all of hers - that's my job!" Sam said, settling on a rerun of Girly Cow.

"Yeah, well, bye," he awkwardly rushed to the elevator. That stupid nerdy Darren had to make things awkward!

"Wait! How's my face doin' on your nubby arm?" Sam stopped him, looking mocking as ever.

"None of your business!" He called out, rushing up the stairs. He could hear Sam, somewhere in the back of his hormonal head, moaning loudly. Darn you Darren!

Why were his pants tighter!? Stupid Sam!

"What's got his anti-bacterial underpants in a twist?" Sam scoffed, plopping herself on the couch. "Eh, who cares?"

Certainly not her.

Fredwad was a nub. He was weird. She shouldn't bother herself with his problems.

But this could be a good opportunity to insult him. That is the only reason Sam Puckett found herself following that nub, Fredweird, up the stairs.

Seriously.


End file.
